Down Lighthouse Road

Turning, she looked across the bay, and there, sure enough, coming regularly across the waves first two quick strokes and then one long steady stroke, was the light of the Lighthouse. It had been lit.— Virginia Woolf

Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom,Lead Thou me on!The night is dark, and I am far from home,Lead Thou me on! — John Henry Newman

After months of anticipation, I had finally arrived. At mid-morning, on that crisp, clear day, I was standing in the presence of spectacular, dance-like waves hitting the rock. The spray cascaded with a graceful fall into bubbly white pools, while deeper parts of the ocean were turquoise, in varying tints of blues and greens, the wet stones an earthy brown, some of them speckled with lichens in gold. Overhead, tree swallows from the forest passed swiftly, darting with the...